In a World
by honestgrins
Summary: In a world where Klaus and Caroline exist, there must be a love story for the ages. No matter the circumstances, they will always find each other. (klarolineauweek drabble collection)
1. Something More

**Day 1 - Crossovers/Fusions**

 **Josh and Donna are sacred to me on _The West Wing_ , but there was always a part of me that really wanted Donna to stay with the cute photographer. I wanted to avoid the complicated international backdrop and life-threatening circumstances, however, so this happened. Happy AU Week!**

* * *

"You're with the American delegation, then?"

Surprised, Caroline turned to find a handsome man had taken the barstool next to her. The British accent was charming, but hardly a clue as to why he was talking to her. "Yeah," she nodded, somewhat suspicious.

As a last-minute addition to the Congressional goodwill visit to India, Caroline's hotel room had yet to be arranged. The advance team was working on it, which left her to wait impatiently in the bar. No stranger to getting hit on, it was a bit odd to have such a familiar experience in an entirely different country.

"Klaus Mikaelson," he introduced himself. When she declined his hand with a sharp glare, he smirked in amusement. "I'm a photographer by trade, and I noticed the Secret Service detail surrounding your group. Americans abroad tend to attract international attention."

"Says the man pointing the camera," Caroline noted, sipping her glass of water.

"Fair enough," Klaus agreed. "But it pays the bills. Care to give a mate the inside scoop?"

Rolling her eyes, Caroline shook her head. "I don't really have inside scoop to share," she admitted. "I'm just an assistant, and I'm not really supposed to be on this trip to begin with. My boss pulled some strings."

His expression turned knowing. "Ah," he sighed. "The boss brought along a bit of pleasure to mix with work?"

Caroline gripped her glass, tempted to throw its contents in his face. "Excuse you," she spat. "My boss isn't even here."

Klaus smirked again, unconcerned. "You said you're just an assistant," he figured. "It seems odd to bring an assistant without the person to assist."

Opening her mouth to answer, Caroline realized she didn't have a good one. She couldn't explain that she wasn't important enough to merit a spot on Air Force One to Geneva, that was a disappointing fact she could keep to herself. She definitely wouldn't go into the specifics of her complicated relationship with Stefan, who she finally realized might be holding her back from greater career opportunities. Working in the West Wing was an incredible honor, but six years was a long time to worry about lunch orders.

She had been pestering Stefan for months to have more responsibility, but it was actually Bonnie who asked her to join leaders from Congress on their diplomatic trip to India. When the press secretary told her to get on a plane, Caroline wasn't going to say no.

"It's a special assignment," she finally told Klaus, if only to wipe that smug look off his face. "I'm reporting to the press secretary's office so she can be briefed on the events here."

"But you don't work for the press secretary," Klaus discerned with narrowed eyes. "Who did she nick you from?"

"I'm the senior assistant to the president's deputy chief of staff," she answered snottily. "And I'm also excellent at my job."

Klaus smiled more genuinely at that, tilting his head in admiration. "I have no doubt," he said. "So, you're supposed to report back what you see and hear about...what?"

Shrugging, Caroline glanced down to the bar. "India, I guess. The elected officials all have meetings set with Parliament and industry leaders, though they all have their own staffs," she answered, feeling somewhat like an extra thumb. "We have tours set all over New Delhi, but I'm mostly just baggage. All Bonnie told me was to keep her in the loop, but I'll probably be stuck bugging the staffers for details every night."

"It sounds to me like you're free to explore during the day, then."

"Let me guess," Caroline sighed. "I could spend my days exploring you?"

Dimples cut deep into his cheeks as he looked almost bashful. "While I wouldn't be opposed," he said with a wink, "I thought you might enjoy tagging along on some of my assignments. I freelance for the most part, few papers have Indian bureaus staffed full-time. It's up to me to find the stories and tell them with my photos."

"That sounds...grand."

"It's a living," he shrugged. "There's a lot more to New Delhi than your tours will likely show. Care for a deeper context to those reports you have to write?"

Caroline just stared, unsure what fairytale this guy walked out from and why he thought she was the damsel in distress he needed to whisk away for an adventure.

Clearly catching onto her disbelief, Klaus chuckled. "Take a chance," he dared. "I bet you've always dreamed of exploring the world with a handsome man on your arm."

"You don't even know my name," she pointed out. "How would you know anything about my hopes or my dreams?"

"I don't," he admitted. "But my hope is that you'll let me find out."

A giggle burst from her, but she couldn't stop smiling. "God," she gasped. "You probably hit on every blonde who sits in this bar. You're good, I'll give you that."

Sensing a losing fight, Klaus pushed himself off the stool. Still, he passed her a card with his name and number. "In case you change your mind, love," he said lowly, bowing slightly before taking his leave.

Her fingers traced the edge of the card as she watched him go. Caroline shook her head, the encounter seeming ridiculous.

That didn't stop her from tucking Klaus Mikaelson's card into her purse. It was always good to have a friend in foreign places. If anything, it made for a funny story to tell Bonnie.

* * *

A day. Caroline Forbes, whose infamous willpower managed to land her a job in the White House, lasted an entire day before calling some guy she met in a bar.

In her defense, that day sucked. The hotel never managed to find her a room, so she had to bunk with one of the Congresswomen, who was less than thrilled at sharing her space with staff. Her own irritation kept Caroline tossing and turning all night, fueled by unanswered emails and text messages to Stefan about her safe arrival and first impressions of India. The next morning was no better, when the delegation left her behind for their private meetings without a concern for what she should do in the meantime.

It wasn't until she tried to get a summary of those meetings that Caroline gave up her official duties. The staffers were rude, smug, and otherwise less than helpful.

At least she knew where she could get similar service with a prettier face.

The phone finally rang in her ear, a sigh of relief escaping her after the ordeal of calling from the hotel phone. "Klaus Mikaelson," the familiar voice greeted when the line connected.

"It's Caroline," she blurted out, smacking her head in embarrassment when she realized he never knew her name. "We met in the bar yesterday? I accused you of hitting on blondes."

"Caroline." Her name rolled off his tongue like something to be savored. "What a pleasant surprise."

She scoffed. "Do you always give out your number assuming the girl won't call?"

"Do you always call the men who leave you their number?"

Sighing, Caroline's eyes ached with how hard she rolled them. "You know what, this was a bad idea," she decided, ready to hang up.

"No, wait," he said hurriedly, the earnestness in his voice just enough to keep her on the phone. "How may I be of service, love?"

"If your offer of showing me around the city is still good-"

"It is."

Caroline bit back a smile at his quick response. "My schedule is empty until a diplomatic brunch at the embassy tomorrow morning," she explained. "I'd really like to get a glimpse of the real New Delhi before then."

Klaus went above and beyond that glimpse. Over the next week, he took every opportunity offered by a gap in her schedule to show her sites beyond the tours set up by the government. Together, they explored markets, spoke with citizens, ate in hideaway restaurants, visited neighborhoods and temples. He hid nothing from her, made sure to show the rougher facts among all the beauty abundant in the city.

Energized by the experience, Caroline's emails back home grew longer and more detailed. Each message was carefully crafted to faithfully describe what she saw, how she felt, what it all meant to be in New Delhi. Even as she trudged up to her hotel room, her fingers buzzed with the need to write down every bite of the dinner she just ate.

"I should have taken some of that curry to go," Caroline moaned, clutching her stomach. "I'm going to be dreaming about it for weeks."

Licking his lips, Klaus seemed to ponder his next words. "You could always stay," he suggested. "You wouldn't have to dream about the curry if you could just order it."

Caroline scoffed as she let them into her room. A week of the photographer's constant presence hadn't been so bad after all, and she wasn't ready to say goodnight. Still, that didn't mean she was ready to put down roots across the world. "I live in Washington, where I have a pretty good job," she pointed out. "For some reason, I don't think assistants get to take extended vacations with charming Brits."

"We'll get back to the charming Brit part in a moment," Klaus joked, placing his hands firmly on her hips. She raised her eyebrow at the clear breaking of their understood 'no touching' rule, but she didn't push him away either. "But I don't think you like your job as much as you say. I've seen the intensity of wanderlust itching under your skin, and it's such a beautiful quality."

"So?" she drawled, shrugging. "I can travel once I finish out the president's term. Stefan needs me-"

"Are you really telling me you'll be perfectly content going back to your desk job, with a boss who consistently devalues you and your goals?" Klaus squeezed her hips, ducking a bit to keep eye contact with her when she tried to look away. "Sweetheart, I watched you come alive when you stepped outside your strict schedules and outlined assignments. You've barely scratched the surface of what you can see in this world, and you hunger for more. You deserve more."

Choking out a laugh, Caroline tried to squirm out of his grip. "I'm an adult, Klaus," she sighed. "I have bills to pay, a career to think of, and people who rely on me. Not everyone can live their life out of a suitcase, coming and going as we please."

"If you could," he posited, leaning his forehead against hers, "would you want to? We could go anywhere."

"You've known me a week," she said hysterically. "Now, you want to run away together?"

Klaus hesitated at that, giving her enough room to escape.

She didn't go far, though, moving to hold his hands. "Seriously, Klaus?" she asked. "This is all very romantic, but happily ever after was always too vague an ending for my tastes. I need a plan, I need stability."

"I have plans," he defended. "They're recent, sure, but they're still plans. Love, this week with you has been unlike anything I've been able to do by myself. My career has been floating from one place to the next, discovering the world as I go. Now, all I want is to show it to you. To share it with you. You can write; we'll go everywhere. Rome, Paris, Tokyo."

"This is crazy," she answered, shaking her head.

Raising his hand to her cheek, Klaus tilted her face toward his. "You leave in two days," he admitted. "I figured crazy was my only option, rather than to face the reality you'll be gone as quickly as you came into my life."

Caroline pushed herself up to meet his lips with hers, their first kiss in a week fraught with tension. With a sigh, she pulled away. "Then let's make those two days count," she offered, tugging on his shirt. "You can tell me all about the places you think I'd like, maybe send me photos once I get back to the states."

Sadly, Klaus tried to smile as he leaned back in to kiss her. "I guess that's fair."

* * *

The drive to the airport had been torture for Klaus. His time with Caroline wasn't nearly enough, and he had pulled out all the stops in hopes of convincing her to stay. He felt ridiculous pushing the issue when she was clearly set on returning home, more so considering her valid points.

Still, it seemed more wrong to let her go without a fight.

Klaus was sure she wanted more out of life than to be someone's assistant, especially not for that dunce of a boss who barely managed to listen to her when she asked for more responsibility. She had thrived wandering the city, and his heart nearly broke when she laughed at his offer to see more of the world. He was a grown man who could handle rejection, but something about Caroline just fit.

"I could go with you," he tried, gripping her hand a bit harder at the security gate where he would have to leave her. "The U.S. isn't as lucrative for freelancing, but there's always a political scandal to stumble upon."

"Klaus," she sighed. Tears filled her eyes, and she squeezed his hand right back. "I don't want to tie you down, it wouldn't be fair."

He shook his head. "I don't want to say goodbye."

"Then don't." Smiling through her tears, she raised their hands to kiss the back of his. "Maybe in a couple years, we'll meet again on one of my travels."

"On top of the Eiffel Tower," he joked weakly.

She beamed. "It's a date," she promised. "As soon as the president leaves office, I'll catch a plane to Paris and go straight to the Eiffel Tower. Just don't make me wait too long, okay?"

Wiping a tear from her eye, Klaus fought his frown. "We wouldn't have to wait at all if you don't get on the plane," he noted. "We could go to Paris right now."

"I have to get back to the real world," she groaned, clearly reluctant to leave. But if Klaus had learned anything in the short time he had known her, Caroline was too stubborn to give up on a plan. And her plan took her home to Washington, D.C. "I'm glad I met you, Klaus. It's certainly been an adventure."

He nodded, words failing him. Instead, he pressed a lingering kiss to her forehead. They stayed close for a long moment, but Klaus pulled back to let her pass through security. "Let me know when you land safely?"

"I will," she answered softly, slow to turn away.

Klaus watched her go, even waving pathetically when she looked back one last time.

A week. Klaus Mikaelson, who never let anyone or anything tether him to one spot for too long, fell head over heels in love in just one week with a woman he might never see again.

Needing to drown his sorrows, he headed to the hotel bar where they first met. If he was going to rub salt in the wound, he might as well order it with tequila and a lime. He wasn't nearly as sloshed as he hoped when he started to relay his woes to the bartender an hour later.

"She was beautiful before, when she was just a stranger in a bar," he moaned. "A mark, really. I was hoping for an easy story. Follow the American, a key principle in freelance photography. But she was so much more than that. I just- Why did she have to get on the plane?"

"Maybe she didn't," the bartender shrugged.

"Of course she got on the plane," Klaus answered miserably. "I love how hardheaded she can be, even when it hurts. She planned to get on the plane, so she got on the plane."

A small voice behind him interrupted. "She didn't get on the plane."

Whirling around, Klaus nearly lost his balance on the barstool where their story began. A part of him didn't want to believe she was real, that this Caroline standing in front of him was just a cruel hallucination brought on by alcohol and pessimism.

"Nope, the real me," she answered in an irritated voice. He hadn't even realized he spoke his musings aloud, but Klaus was thrilled to forget them in favor of pulling her close. "You really hit the tequila hard, didn't you? One hour without me, and you're hopeless."

Klaus buried his face in her neck. "You have no idea."

* * *

 _Dear Stefan,_

 _I'm not sure if you've noticed, but I wasn't on the return trip from India with the Congressional delegation. Bonnie has all the reports she needs, and April is just qualified enough to pick up where I left off in your office. You'll be fine without me, I promise._

 _It's been an honor and a pleasure to serve the president, but I'm ready for something more. I have a world to discover._

 _Thanks for everything,_

 _Caroline_


	2. A Taste of Danger

**Day 2 - Right Place, Right Time**

 **After many requests, I've finally gotten around to writing a sequel to last AU Week's Regency era fic, "Your Hand" (Chapter 32 of To Rely on the Kindness of Strangers). Enjoy!**

* * *

Unable to sleep after a particularly dull evening in residence, Caroline snuck down to the kitchen for some warm milk. As grateful as she was that Elena had included her in the excitement of her first season in London, she wished her friend would be more open to exploring their temporary home.

The Lockwoods had invited them to the opera, but Elena begged off with a feigned headache. Caroline very well knew she only wanted to stay home in case one of her many suitors dropped by, but the blonde was too polite to enjoy the opera without her friend. As she set about warming the milk, though, Caroline realized she wasn't polite enough to refrain from complaining about the situation.

Silently reprimanding herself, she was too focused to notice the scuffling behind her until a loud thud and a whispered, pained curse startled her. Caroline turned to find Katerina bundled in dark clothing, her eyes screwed up in pain. "Are you hurt?"

"Just stunned," Katerina answered, lifting her skirt to look at her foot. "My toe will smart the rest of the night."

Shocked, Caroline made sure to keep her voice down in the quiet of the townhouse. "Where could you possibly be going at this hour?"

With a disappointed look, Katerina still managed to smirk. "I should have known you were a goody-goody like my dreadful cousin," she sighed. The Petrovas had been kind enough to take Elena and Caroline in for the season, but the twins were hardly welcoming to more competition for good marriages. That is, until it was clear that Elijah Mikaelson was off limits. Caroline had been making progress with Katerina, the more scandalous sister, through conversation not often held among young ladies. No amount of literary discourse could restrain Katerina, though, as her secret adventure clearly showed. "Elijah has offered to escort me to the fights, and they only start now."

"Your mother would never-"

"Hence, the skulking around after everyone has retired," Katerina explained in a bored voice. A curious expression soon spread across her face. "I see two courses of action: one, you keep my secret. Just drink your milk, head upstairs, and pretend this was all a dream."

Caroline narrowed her eyes at the condescension. "Or I scream, and alert the entire house," she threatened, spine straight with defiance.

Something like respect glinted in Katerina's gaze, but she continued as though Caroline hadn't spoken. "Or two, you come with me. If you hurry to change, we will be just late enough for Elijah to worry. Anticipation is such a delicious look on him."

About to refuse, Caroline realized this might be her only chance to see the real London, especially if Elena kept indoors. "It seems like an awful risk," she wavered.

Katerina smiled innocently. "If you don't want to go-"

"I'll be right back," Caroline decided, a bit breathless as the weight of her decision grew with each step toward her room. Part of the agreement she made with her parents in joining the season was to act above reproach. If caught at the fights without a proper chaperone, her standing would be ruined, only to return home in shame.

With the goal being marriage, though, Caroline thought she deserved at least a taste of freedom while she still had it. Preserving her reputation was well and good, but just once, she wanted an experience that wasn't defined by her marriageability. After all, who would be able to recognize her that wasn't already sworn to secrecy?

* * *

Klaus sulked in the corner of his club, the raucous activity surrounding him doing nothing to catch his fancy. The business of orchestrating fights was an exciting one, just as merely watching the fights was an adventure for the ton at large. Still, a particular melancholy had befallen him since that dreaded conversation with his mother.

Esther Mikaelson would tolerate only so much foolishness from her bastard son, even with the wealthy empire he had built on his own. She had summoned him to dinner, only to berate him for refusing to participate in London's season. "You need a wife," she haughtily pointed out. "Your business aside, you have a responsibility to your title. To provide an heir."

Gulping his brandy, Klaus angrily slammed down his glass. It was hardly the first time his mother had brought up the subject, but something about their latest conversation irked him. Visions of blonde curls and a satin glove came to mind, swirling in his head like the effects of the strong alcohol he desperately hoped would block them.

"Utterly ridiculous," he muttered to himself. He barely met the girl, yet her face was the first he saw as soon as his mother mentioned a wife. True, his brief introduction to Miss Caroline Forbes intrigued him more than any of the other young maids thrown toward him by ambitious mothers. And he might have been attending more events than usual in hopes of another moment alone with her. Marriage, however, was much more than a flirtation.

Desperate for a distraction, he glanced up in hopes of finding a new fancy. One of the blondes by the bar was eyeing him; ladies of the ton were seldom seen among such entertainments, but the common stock held themselves to no such rules of society. Klaus was about to head her way when a familiar face caught his eye at the door. "Elijah?"

His older brother looked much aggrieved to be caught. True, Klaus rarely expected titled gentlemen on nights such as this, where the bets were lowered to serve the masses. He was surprised that the ever proper Elijah Mikaelson would show his face at such a common event. When a head of massive brunette curls followed, however, all his questions were answered.

"Which one are you, then?" Klaus asked rudely of the Petrova twin. She shot him a glare, as opposed to the simpering look from her sister that once captivated him. "Ah, Katerina then. Brother, you've fallen far to corrupt your morals for a woman."

"Alas," Elijah sighed. "She threatened to make her way here regardless of my involvement. I thought it would be a gentleman's duty to protect her in the absence of a chaperone."

"Technically, I have one," Katerina countered, pulling another woman behind her. "Elijah was angry he wasn't the only one I've corrupted in my sojourn."

Bright eyes met Klaus's gaze, shocking him down to his toes. Caroline Forbes stood in his club, her cheeks flushed with excitement. His hand ached to reach out, though he tempered himself at the realization she was still a lady with a reputation to consider. Bowing slightly, he nodded in a respectful manner. "Miss Forbes."

"Oh, hello," she said in surprise, dropping into a small curtsy.

Katerina snorted from beside her, gripping the younger girl's arm. "We're not ladies tonight, Caroline, honestly." She shook her head in mock despair. "You really are a goody-goody."

Opening her mouth to answer, anything Caroline might have said was cut off by Katerina's impertinent order. "Elijah, you promised to assist me tonight, so let us find a good spot to see the fight." She turned, quickly disappearing into the crowd with a frazzled Elijah chasing after her.

"That was rude," Caroline noted, realizing she was left alone. Well, not entirely.

Mortified at the circumstances, Klaus still refused to let such an opportunity pass by. "Would you care for a drink, love?" Holding his breath, he nodded toward his corner table. "I have an excellent view of the room."

She seemed torn with indecision, until she pursed her lips in finality. "Nothing too strong," she demanded. "I want to remember everything about tonight."

The second part seemed breathless to his ear, and he wondered at the sound. Sending one of his men for some champagne, he led Caroline to sit at the table. "What about my club is so worth the risk to your prospects?" he asked. "You needn't put your future in danger to speak with me, you know."

Caroline relaxed into her seat as she took in the scene around her. "As if everything's about you," she answered, rolling her eyes. She glanced back to Klaus, though, and his genuine concern pushed her to be honest. "I just...wanted to see more of the world before I can't anymore."

"What could stop you?" In his imagination, there was nothing the strong-willed woman beside him couldn't accomplish.

"Just like a man," she muttered, crossing her arms. "I was brought to London to find a husband, and a married woman has more important responsibilities than to travel for her own fancy. A home to manage, children to bear and raise."

Her explanation didn't sit well with Klaus, who was relieved when their drinks arrived. "A good husband would recognize your desires, seek to fulfill them at every chance," he replied, handing her a flute of champagne. "My mother scolded me just earlier for failing to seek such a wife to dote upon."

Giggling, Caroline smiled into her glass. "And you would be a doting husband?"

His eyes burned, and Klaus allowed himself to give into the temptation of playing with yet another loose curl of her hair. "Any wife of mine would be a queen of my domain, so to speak," he answered softly. "I would share everything with her, take her everywhere she wanted to go."

"You haven't found her yet?" Caroline asked in a whisper, tracking his movement with the lock of her hair.

Klaus smirked, releasing her only to reach for her hand instead. "I don't know about that," he said, marveling at the direct contact with her ungloved skin.

They both stared at their clasped hands for a moment, only broken when Elijah rushed to their table with a disgruntled Katerina. He arched an eyebrow at their closeness, but a more pressing issue was at hand. "We must go, Katerina has drawn too much attention to herself," he announced.

"You're just angry I won the bet," she pouted theatrically, giving her skirts an innocent swish. "It's not my fault you couldn't choose a winning fighter."

"Come, Caroline," Elijah ordered tersely. "I must return you both home."

Reluctantly releasing her hand, Klaus watched as she stood to follow them out. "Might I call on you tomorrow?" he rushed to ask.

Her eyes lowered shyly. "I suppose it would be rude to refuse a caller," she hedged, turning away with a small smile.

His hand flexed involuntarily as he watched her go.


	3. Search and Rescue

**Day 3 - Because Magic!**

 **Set after the latest seasons of both shows, this is a game of Hide and Seek gone wrong. Klaus is free and sulking in New Orleans, and Caroline is busy with her daughters in Mystic Falls.**

* * *

"...eight, nine, ten! Ready or not, here I come!"

Caroline opened her eyes to look around the supposedly empty living room. She figured a game of hide and seek would be a good way for the girls to get used to her childhood home, especially when she knew they couldn't get too far. Case in point, a very familiar pair of purple tennis shoes were poking out of the curtains.

Sneaking over, she crouched down to tickle where her daughter's tummy would be behind the fabric. "Got you!"

"Mommy," Lizzie giggled, squirming until she could free herself from her hiding place. "You found me!"

Laughing, Caroline tousled her hair. "Let's go find your sister."

Lizzie raced from the room, letting her mother follow at her own pace. "Aha," she called from the kitchen.

"Cheater," Josie mumbled once Caroline arrived. She pulled herself from a mostly empty cabinet, pouting. "Mommy was supposed to find me."

Sensing a fight about to break out, Caroline opted for a distraction. "And now it's Lizzie's turn to seek," she announced. Reaching for Josie's hand, she left her other daughter in the kitchen. "Let's go hide."

With a mischievous look on her face, Josie pulled them toward her old bedroom. "Under the bed," the toddler ordered, and Caroline rolled her eyes before obeying. "Mommy, your legs don't fit!"

"Josie, it's fine- ow!" Caroline's veins burned as Josie's hand glowed red around her arm, trying to pull her further into the cramped space. "Are you siphoning me?"

"I'm sorry," the little girl apologized in exasperation. "You're not hiding enough."

"Really, it's oka-"

"Hide!" Josie's eyes scrunched up tight, and Caroline felt the oddest squeezing sensation before-

 _POOF!_

* * *

Klaus was miserable. Finally released from his tomb, all of his efforts to reunite his family were for naught. He had turned to drinking his loneliness away, but still too paranoid to leave New Orleans in case new information came to light.

Sitting at the bar, he was contemplating a switch to brandy when his phone buzzed. He checked the caller ID, but the name was less than tempting in his melancholy state. Bored out of his mind, however, at least he would have someone to torment if he answered the call. "Ripper. Running from another of your brother's consequences?"

"I need your help," Stefan said, sounding pained.

"What else is new," Klaus taunted. "And what did Damon do this time?"

"Caroline's missing." Nothing but silence filled the connection. "Klaus?"

Only a moment had passed, though it felt like an eternity to him. "What happened?"

"She was playing hide and seek with the girls, and Josie accidentally sent her somewhere to hide. With magic."

Klaus felt the strangest urge to laugh, but Stefan wouldn't have called him if the situation weren't dire. It may have been an accident, however Caroline was missing all the same. "A locator spell should be simple enough," he said, feigning calm. Silently, he wondered if any of the witches who had failed at finding his family would manage to do something right for once.

"The girls are too freaked out, and Bonnie has no magic," Stefan sighed. "We tried tracking her phone, but it was just upstairs. I'm running out of options, Klaus."

"You must be," he acknowledged smugly. An idea had struck him at the mention of Caroline's daughters, and a plan was forming. "Good luck, Ripper."

"Wait, Klaus-"

He hung up, already dialing the number for his private jet service as he dropped some cash on the bar. "Yes, this is Klaus Mikaelson, and I'd like a flight plan set departing for Dallas as soon as possible."

Some well-placed compulsion allowed him the be in the air in three hours. Klaus vaguely noted that it was Caroline to push him out of the city when he had been so resistant, though it didn't surprise him. She always managed to bring out the oddest reactions in him. He only hoped his theory was correct.

Hope's magic had been unpredictable in the short time he'd lived with her. Caroline's children didn't even have the benefit of an active witch to help train them; they must be working purely on instinct, and Klaus would bet anything that Josie sent her mother to their Dallas home.

He forced himself to ignore the pain of missing his own daughter, but finding Caroline was an achievable end. It would take much more time to track down Hope, though it likely meant she was well protected. It was really all he could ask, if he couldn't be the one to protect her.

Caroline, however, would likely be vulnerable wherever she landed. With no phone or wallet, at least Klaus could take comfort in the fact she was a competent vampire. Still, most witches don't use transport magic because of the inherent dangers associated with making something disappear and reappear somewhere else.

With the witch in question so young, Klaus desperately hoped Caroline would be in one piece.

* * *

Pulling up to the suburban home, Klaus tried to picture the life Caroline chose to live there. While he had no doubt she was a devoted mother, something about the upscale neighborhood still seemed...small to him. The Caroline Forbes he once knew could only be content in such a world for so long.

He supposed that was why she ended up back in Mystic Falls. A small step toward accepting her supernatural status as more than a bonus, but still a far cry from reaping the benefits of an immortal life. At least, the life he hoped to share with her one day.

His hand rubbed over his face, and Klaus just stopped thinking about that altogether. He had bigger problems with his family at the moment to consider wooing Caroline away from yet another disappointing boyfriend. Klaus would have his chance, and he could be very patient when the spoils were worthy. The pressing need was to find Caroline and to deliver her home safely.

Focusing his senses, he strained to find any sign of Caroline within the house. He had employed several private investigators over the years, two of them alone devoted to keeping tabs on the blonde in question. Figuring quickly she would notice any vampires in her vicinity, he was forced to use more mundane tactics. But, they worked, and luckily one of his contacts assured him Caroline had kept the title to the house in her name even after the move. Though he was sure it was a decision of nostalgia, it did make the current situation more convenient. Not only would he be able to avoid any new occupants, Klaus wouldn't need an invitation to enter.

He flashed inside, quickly ascertaining that she wasn't on the main floor. Just about to head up the stairs, a rattling breath shook in his ears. Caroline's scent still permeated the house, but he followed the noise to where the floral perfume and vanilla shampoo were concentrated heaviest.

Her bedroom wasn't what he expected at all of an engaged mother of two. It was entirely hers, no sign of that sham fiancé. There was a desk and a bulletin board, both tidily covered with articles and notes. Photos lined the walls, mostly of the little girls who caused this mess to begin with. While he could tell how much love went into this home, something about this room felt empty to him.

This wasn't the Caroline he knew.

"Klaus."

The voice was barely a croak, so quiet that he was sure only his enhanced senses allowed him to hear it. It was still enough to let him know exactly where she was. He flipped the bed entirely, exposing the nearly desiccated vampire underneath. "Sweetheart."

Caroline struggled to raise her head, but that was all it took for Klaus to snap out of his horror so he could cradle her in his lap. "Here, drink," he said, offering his wrist.

It took longer than he liked for her fangs to descend into his flesh, but she finally began to pull at his veins. The relief washed over him as he held her close, letting her take all that she needed. "That's it, love," he encouraged.

He felt her lips curl into a smile against his skin. She released his wrist, the color flushing back to her face. "We really need to stop meeting like this," she whispered.

"What can I say?" he smirked. "You're the one who insists on finding yourself in these situations."

Groaning, Caroline sat up fully to take in the room around her. "I get the feeling you enjoy coming to my rescue," she pointed out, "and apparently destroying my furniture." She glared toward the flipped bed.

"Apologies, sweetheart," he replied, completely unapologetic. His hands stroked lightly down her back the whole time. "You know I can be positively murderous toward obstacles in my way to something I want."

Caroline rolled her eyes at the obvious flirt. "Yeah, yeah, you're the big, bad hybrid," she teased, standing up. "Thanks for the rescue, but I've got to get home. The girls must be terrified."

Sighing, Klaus stood as well. "Indeed they are," he answered, leading her out to his vehicle. "Stefan was the one to alert me to the circumstances of your disappearance. I'm curious as to how a mere child managed to transport you safely across state lines."

"They siphon their magic, and Josie pulled enough from me to almost desiccate me," Caroline explained. "It doesn't seem like much, but it really packs a punch when they want it to."

Klaus smiled as he handed her into the SUV. "As much as I enjoy these encounters of ours, perhaps you should get those daughters of yours a real teacher," he suggested. "The next accident might not be so simple to rectify."

"What, is there a baby witch boot camp in New Orleans I don't know about?"

Thinking about Hope and finally bringing his family home, Klaus grew pensive. "Perhaps one day," he answered seriously. "Raising our children to protect themselves certainly seems like a good idea."

Before he could shut her door, though, Caroline reached for his hand. "Seriously, Klaus," she implored. "Thank you."

"You're welcome, love," he said, bringing her hand to his lips. She rolled her eyes again, though there was no heat in the gesture. "Now, I'm sure you'd put up quite the fuss if I didn't take you straight home."

"You would be correct," she answered primly.

Smirking, Klaus flashed into the driver's seat. "But my jet won't be ready to fly another couple of hours," he admitted. "I don't suppose you would mind sharing a meal in the meantime?"

Eyes wide, Caroline nodded. "I'm starving."

"I figured as much," Klaus said with a genuine smile, pulling away from the house.

The Caroline he knew was always hungry for more.


	4. My Hero

**Day 4 - All Human**

 **Caroline's a writer in need of inspiration, and Kat's the agent who needs her to finish writing a book. She sends Caroline to her beach house for a month, not knowing her temporary neighbor would finagle his way into the book (or her author's heart).**

* * *

Her knee bounced under the table, her fingers tapping nervously on her coffee mug as she waited for Katherine to process what she had just told her.

"What do you mean, you're stuck?"

"I mean," Caroline attempted to explain, "that I have a whole list of possible stories that I could pitch to the publisher, but I'm exactly zero percent inspired to actually write any of them. Kat, I'm stuck!"

The agent watched her suspiciously, the sharp gaze making Caroline feel like her skin should be peeling with the focus. "Okay," Katherine finally said. "How can I help?"

Shocked, Caroline wasn't sure she had an answer. Katherine Pierce was a cutthroat literary agent, infamous for getting results and refusing to put up with authors who couldn't produce works of her standard.

"Oh, stop with the surprise, Barbie. This is my job," Katherine snorted. "Even if I didn't think you were a great writer worth the trouble, there's still a contracted novel to complete a first draft in the next thirty days. I won't let you ruin my streak just because you lack inspiration. So what do you need? Alcohol? Drugs? A one-night stand?"

"What are you, my connect?"

"I'm your agent," Katherine answered blithely. "Tell me what it's going to take to jump-start your creative juices so you can crank out something useful for me to sell to the publisher next month."

Sighing, Caroline screwed her eyes shut. "I just, I need to focus and get something down on paper," she admitted. "I haven't written anything since…"

"Since your vampire series," Katherine finished, the picture becoming clear.

Wildly popular, the _Mystic Falls_ book series spawned an overly active fandom, which led to a television adaption and worldwide fame. Caroline Forbes couldn't do anything without a devoted following of _MF_ ers tracking her every opinion and thought on the universe she created.

With the last book installment finally behind her, Caroline had been so excited to build something new. If anything, it would be a nice change of pace to break the monotony of discussing high schoolers facing the supernatural. She would always be proud of her work, but it was time for her to move on; the pressure of another project without the cushion of invested fans, however, was getting to her.

"What if it's not as a good?" she asked, sounding terrified. "Worse, what if it's good, it just not good enough to justify ending _Mystic Falls_?"

"Oh, please," Katherine groaned. "Getting you to write that last book was an exercise in pulling teeth. You were done writing for the precious Eleanor and her stupid brother suitors. Just avoiding a love triangle should be enough to motivate you for a new story."

"I guess that's true," Caroline laughed, until she sobered. "It still doesn't tell me what that story should be."

Watching her client closely, Katherine seemed to come to a decision. "I have a beach house, up in Maine," she said. "Why don't you head up there for the month? It's isolated, kind of my safe place when I need to get away. Maybe that's what you need to focus."

Caroline set her coffee down on the table between them. "Wow, really?" Sure, she and her agent had become something like friends over their decade of working together, but Katherine had always been a very private person. "You've never even invited me over for dinner, and now you're giving me free rein of your beach house?"

"Well, if you don't want it…"

"I do!" Caroline wasn't about to pass up a chance to snoop, let alone a vacation in the middle of nowhere. Fame and attention were well and good, but they exhausted the hell out of her. She gratefully accepted the keys Katherine passed her.

"It's a private neighborhood, no one should bother you too much," she explained. "Well, except maybe Elijah."

Caroline froze, her sheriff mother's voice screaming in her head to demand more information before heading somewhere new, completely alone. "Who's Elijah?"

"My annoying neighbor who has no concept of fun," Katherine complained. "Apparently playing the stereo in my own house is disruptive to his peace and quiet."

Relaxing a bit, Caroline nodded. "So, I'll just keep the music down."

Katherine pinned her with mischievous glare. "I demand you drink tequila and party after every breakthrough in your writing," she ordered. "Not only would it be a good reward system for you, it would also irritate the hell out of his pompous ass."

Laughing, Caroline nodded. "Deal."

* * *

Caroline was bored out of her mind.

The beach house was great for the first day, the mere silence enough to help Caroline plan a writing schedule. Day two, she listed concepts and character traits to explore. Day three, she was supposed to have an idea to start working from.

It was day three, and she was still stuck. Instead, she wasted hours on fanmail, her blog, and generally dicking around on the Internet. Caroline Forbes did not waste time. Frustrated and irritable, she needed an outlet.

Turning to the welcome basket Katherine had sent with her, Caroline immediately grabbed the tequila and limes. Margaritas helped her come up with the _Mystic Falls_ series in the first place; surely, they would help again. She also remembered Kat's rule about celebrating breakthroughs, and she figured loosening up for the breakthrough was a simple enough exception. Firing up the stereo, Caroline let the Spice Girls blare through the beach house as she set about making her drink.

She danced and danced, using the silliness to work out all of her excess energy built up from her solitude. Caroline didn't think twice about prancing around a strange house in little more than underwear and a tank top, until a booming knock sounded from the back porch. Startled, she quickly peeked around the corner to see a strange man through the glass door.

Caroline considered ignoring him, but she wasn't fast enough to duck his gaze in return. Ooh, he was pretty. "Hello," he called in a British accent.

Damn her southern pageant queen title. He was polite, and Caroline's manners were too ingrained to subvert. "Just a second," she yelled back. Realizing she would have to dart up the stairs in full view of this stranger, though, she needed another plan. "Can you turn around or something?"

"Pardon?"

"I'm not exactly decent here," she admitted. "Seriously, just turn around and count to thirty. Please?"

He seemed to be laughing, but Caroline watched as he turned around as requested. "Thank you," she called, sprinting up the stairs to pull on the first clothing she could find. If it happened to be a pretty sundress, she would just chalk it up to making a good impression.

"Sorry about that," she announced on her way back down the stairs. "Dancing in your underwear is super fun until someone's there to witness it."

"I'll have to take your word for it, love," the stranger said.

His smirk was devilish to say the least, with dimples to boot. Caroline was a bit starstruck until she realized who the man must be. "Oh, is the music too loud? Katherine warned me you were a bit of a stickler on the noise issue."

He looked confused. "Who is Katherine?"

"She's the owner of this house," Caroline explained, just as bemused. "I'm sorry, I thought you were the neighbor she mentioned. Elijah?"

Chuckling, the man shook his head. "That would be my brother, who's been kind enough to lend me his vacation home," he answered. "I'm Klaus."

"Caroline," she replied with a small wave. "What can I do for you then, Klaus?"

"This is a bit awkward, but I rather hoped you had a bottle of red wine you wouldn't mind parting with," he said, his hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans. "I didn't think to grab any from the grocery, and I need it for dinner."

She smiled; he was cute when he was bashful. "I'm already two margaritas in, so I think I can go without the red wine for tonight," she said. The alcohol had her feeling flirty, and the way he tracked the bounce of her skirt as she went to grab a bottle from Kat's basket was the boost of confidence she needed to act on that feeling. Before she handed it to him, she pulled the bottle just out of his reach. "What do I get out of this deal?"

Stepping closer to lean against the threshold, Klaus ran a finger along his bottom lip. "That's a fair question," he said, voice low and alluring. "I could offer you the best beef stroganoff you'll ever taste."

"I guess that will do," she deigned in a mock suffering tone.

"Would you like to join me for dinner?" he asked more formally. "I hate to interrupt your night of dancing in your underwear, but it appears I already have."

Caroline shrewdly considered him as she mulled the invitation. Despite her blatant flirting, she knew better than to trust strangers so easily. "If I come over, I'd like to take a photo of your driver's license to send to my sheriff mother in case I go missing."

"I promise, I'm not a serial killer," he joked, though he did reach for his wallet. Handing over his ID, Klaus seemed amused as she really snapped a picture of it with her phone.

"You think protecting myself is funny," she accused, eyebrow raised.

But he just shook his head amiably. "Impressive," he clarified. "I should share that trick with my sister."

Snorting, Caroline passed back the license and followed him out the door. "She probably has similar tricks with her girlfriends, but I'm all for sharing safety tips."

They walked in a comfortable silence down the beach, their houses a mere stone's throw apart. Klaus let himself in, holding the door so Caroline could follow.

"Wow," she said, taking in the more traditional architecture. "This place is amazing. Has your brother had it for long?"

"A few years, I think," Klaus shrugged. "Elijah works on Wall Street, and apparently the Hamptons were too crowded for his tastes. He insisted on a quieter vacation home for when he needed to get away."

Caroline snickered. "I guess that's why he's so strict on the noise level. Katherine deliberately told me to piss him off if I could." He led her to the kitchen, where a number of pots and pans were simmering away on the stove. "It smells great in here," she said, impressed. "Do you cook a lot?"

Smirking, Klaus stirred the pans he had left unsupervised. "Does a Michelin star count?" With a flourish, he uncorked the red wine and poured it into the meat pan. "I'm a chef," he clarified at Caroline's look of confusion.

"I thought Michelin stars went to restaurants, not the chefs," she snarked. Caroline did not appreciate the condescension in his tone; a successful author can afford a fancy dinner or two. Pulling herself onto a stool at the kitchen island, she arched an eyebrow in challenge.

"Point taken," Klaus answered, his smile falling. He almost seemed sad, which hadn't been Caroline's intention. "The restaurant got that star because of me, however."

Nodding, Caroline sensed there was more to the story. She looked around the house dramatically. "Funny, this doesn't look like a Michelin-rated restaurant."

Klaus's lips ticked up again. "I needed to get away for a while," he admitted, his back to her as he focused on the food. "An extended vacation, if you will."

"My agent declared the same for me," Caroline offered. She figured a little honesty deserved some in return. "I have a month to take advantage of her beach house to write a novel."

"You're a writer?"

"Can you be a writer if you're not actually writing anything?" Klaus dropped a glass of that red wine in front of her, making her smile. "I've got the worst writer's block, and I have no idea what story I want to tell for my next book."

Klaus's smiled in sympathy. "As a chef, I'm subject to any number of factors that affect my decision making. Availability of ingredients, trends, budget considerations. I can't imagine working when there's no limit but my imagination."

Rolling her eyes, Caroline took a swig of wine. "That's my problem," she explained. "I can write about anything, anything! My publisher really doesn't care because my name in the cover is enough to sell books." At Klaus's poorly hidden chuckle, she blushed. "Okay, that sounds really conceited and like a lack of an actual problem. Still, I haven't found the right inspiration."

"Inspiration is important," Klaus agreed. "Maybe you just need a mindless distraction, get your brain to shut off for a night."

Caroline bit her lip; now they were getting somewhere. "And just what are you suggesting?"

Glancing over his shoulder, Klaus's eyes nearly glowed with dark promise. "I'm not one to put out on a first date, love," he finally said, though Caroline had a feeling that wasn't necessarily true. "I was merely wondering if you would like to chop the vegetables for the salad."

He nodded to the veggie baskets sitting in the sink, and Caroline didn't bother to hold back a scoff. She could play this game, sashaying over to the sink to begin her chore. "I always thought chefs were more controlling over their dominion," she mused. "Are you sure you want a nonprofessional handling such an important task?"

"If you're not up for it…"

Snatching the knife from the counter before he could move it away from her, Caroline was the perfect picture of offense. "You're on, buddy."

* * *

Caroline had never had fun cooking before. She was a stress baker, sure, but that required focus and exact measurements. Cooking with Klaus was pure instinct and sensuality. Even the sorbet set in front of her wasn't enough to cool her down after the heady experience.

If Klaus's heated stare was any indication, Caroline was sure he felt the same way. "For someone who doesn't put out on the first date," she whispered in a husky voice, "you're certainly sending me the bedroom eyes."

"I can't help it," he answered charmingly. "You're beautiful."

She rolled her eyes, unable to hide her pleased smile as she spooned the last of the sorbet into her mouth. "On that note, I should probably head back. Thank you for the delicious dinner."

Standing, Klaus followed her to the door, seemingly confused. "I was kidding before, and you don't have to leave," he insisted, letting his hand graze her arm.

"Oh, but I do," she said. Her fingers itched to write, and if she stayed… Well, she wouldn't be writing. When Klaus pouted, though, she couldn't resist leaning up to kiss him. Lightly nipping his bottom lip, Caroline had to force herself to pull away before he could deepen their embrace. "Nope, that seems like a perfect way to end the night."

Klaus sighed, leaning his head against her shoulder. "You're the writer," he said. "I suppose you know your way around perfect endings."

Biting her lip, Caroline smiled brightly. "With the right inspiration," she teased. A burst of happiness had her pressing another kiss to his lips. "Let's just say there's something to anticipation that really stokes my creativity."

Before he could respond, she twirled around and left for Kat's beach house. She glanced back to Klaus, throwing a little more sway into her hips as he watched her go. Forget tequila as a reward for breakthroughs; a little romance of her own might be just what she needed.

* * *

She couldn't sleep. Her hand was cramped, but she refused to stop writing. Pen flying across her notebook, Caroline scrambled to get all of her ideas down on paper.

Throughout dinner, Klaus had shared a bit of his story. A hotshot chef in New York, he apparently escaped to his brother's beach house when a disagreement flamed up between him and the restaurant's owner. He was out of a job and had a reputation for being difficult to work with, basically blackballing him from the industry until he could open his own restaurant.

The story wrote itself, though Caroline fought very hard to change as much as she could to make it her own. She did her best to give the main character a not-Klaus nuance, mostly because she didn't want to build up her own version of him in her head. He deserved better than that, to be faced with her wildly uninformed expectations of his character. She dealt with that all the time as the writer of _Mystic Falls_ , and she didn't want to put the same burden on his shoulders.

Worse, she didn't want to break her own heart by falling for a character of her own creation. Caroline had to remember Klaus was a real person with real feelings. She considered the creepy ramifications of writing about a guy she was interested in, but the words just kept coming and she was helpless to do anything but to keep writing.

In the middle of one such writing jag, a knock at the door startled her from the couch. Straightening her back from being bent over her third notebook, she looked up to see Klaus holding a bottle of red wine on the porch. She glanced toward the clock, surprised to realize it was already mid-morning. Despite her desire to continue her work, Caroline decided a break wouldn't be the worst thing in the world.

"Hey," she greeted, stretching a bit as she opened the door.

"You look..." Klaus trailed off, as though looking for the right words. "Busy."

Her hand flew to her hair, which was a mussy version of the braid she wore the night before. "Yeah," she mumbled self-consciously. "Like I said, all I needed was a little inspiration. I've been writing all night."

Looking down, Caroline followed Klaus's gaze to her hand still clutching the pen. He set the wine bottle down to take her hand in both of his. The warmth alone helped her to relax, but he lightly massaged her tense muscles. "It feels painful," he noted quietly, just meeting her eyes through his lashes.

With a light smile, she brought her other hand to trace scars and callouses on his. "I would think a chef would understand suffering for your art," she retorted.

Klaus smiled in return, but he dropped both their hands to give her the wine. "To replace what I borrowed yesterday," he explained.

"Thank you. Though I'm surprised you didn't think to pick any up with your grocery shopping, now that I know it's kind of your job." Caroline nodded for him to follow her inside.

"Elijah's a wine snob," Klaus shrugged. "I assumed he would have a decent stock, even in a beach house."

"And he doesn't?"

"Oh, he does," Klaus snorted. "He just neglected to leave me a key to his liquor cabinet. In addition to being a snob, my brother's a selfish git."

"Poor baby," Caroline pouted mockingly, shaking her head.

Struck by the sight, Klaus slowly pulled her by her waist so he could kiss her pout. "I think I'll manage," he whispered against her lips. Taking a final peck, he pulled back. "I always seem to be interrupting you, but would you like to go for a walk? I've only been here for a day or so, and I haven't explored the beach."

In her head, Caroline weighed the pros and cons. She could get back to writing, but she made plenty of progress through the night to catch up to her scheduled plan. Plus, she'd probably find a little more inspiration along the way if Klaus kept up this flirty business. Damn, he was cute. "I could probably be convinced," she said, pulling him in for another kiss.

* * *

It was done.

Three weeks of writing, flirting, and relaxation, and she was done. She ran over to find Klaus as soon as she closed the document, wrapping him in a boisterous hug when he opened the door and screaming, "It's done!"

"It's just a rough draft," she explained in a rush, "but still. I've finally written something without teenage angst and vampire euphemisms."

"Congratulations, love," he said, keeping his arms around her waist. "Do I finally get to read any of it?"

Her breath hitched in her throat; Caroline had never gotten around to describing the book...or the fact that it's based on his own story. Not only was she completely unsure how he would take it, but really, she just wanted to jump his bones.

In true Caroline Forbes fashion, she let herself overthink this fling with Klaus. The anticipation of it all had helped with her inspiration to write, but actively putting off sex was not supposed to be this difficult. Honestly, she didn't even intend to do it. Every day was a new exercise in restraint as she got to know Klaus, and their kisses grew deeper - both physically and emotionally. Now that her draft was finished, though, maybe she could finally give into temptation?

"Well," she began, tentative. As much as she wanted to sleep with him, and she did, Caroline wouldn't feel right unless he knew everything. "In the interest of full disclosure, you should know that I actually wrote about a professional chef." When he tensed up, she hurried to explain. "You were so descriptive of the New York culinary scene, and my mind just kind of rolled from there. Please don't be mad."

Klaus met her eyes seriously, as though he were looking for something. All she felt was worry, maybe a touch of fear that she wasn't worth all the trouble he went to in wooing her. "You didn't really write about me, did you?"

"Not exactly," Caroline hedged. "I did base the main character off your story, but she's nothing like you, I swear."

Dropping his head to her shoulder, Klaus let his lips drag over her neck. "Sweetheart, I- I don't know if I'm comfortable with this."

Caroline bit her lip in apprehension. "That's why I wanted to tell you before, well," she hesitated. "Klaus, I've enjoyed our time together, so much. I didn't want to ruin it."

"Then why write about me?" he challenged, squeezing her hips. "To serve your own career?"

The bitterness in his voice was new, taking Caroline by surprise. "Klaus-"

"Did you never wonder why I fought with the owner? Why my career essentially ended? Because I refused to listen to him. Marcel warned me to never date a food journalist, that it would just burn me in the end."

Confused, Caroline tried to make sense of the new information. "What does th-"

"Genevieve was angry with me for something, wanted to hurt me," he explained, barely holding onto his own anger. "Suddenly, the restaurant is the target of a nasty series of articles, and I'm out of a job. Marcel promised it was only temporary, but then I couldn't find work anywhere else."

"That's not what I'm doing," Caroline protested, gripping his shirt when he tried to turn away. "Klaus, I wanted to tell your story to find your happy ending. I-"

"Used me," Klaus finished, throwing her hands off him. She tried not to think how she might have ended her sentence, as the conversation clearly wasn't going to end well. "You used my personal information to fuel your own desires, and I can't- I have to go."

"What?" Caroline was breathless, her heart aching in her chest at his abrupt description of their relationship. "Klaus, no."

He was picking up his keys and striding toward the front door, and Caroline felt a sudden need to keep him there. She reached for his hand, only to have it ripped from hers. "Please see yourself out," he said coldly. With that, he slammed the door shut, leaving her alone and near tears.

A car started outside, and Caroline retreated to Kat's beach house. Klaus would be back, and she would have a chance to explain her side, show him the story to prove it wasn't like he thought.

Until then, all she could do was wait and cry.

* * *

He didn't come back.

After two whole days of crying on the couch and waiting for a sign of his return, Caroline had to accept that Klaus had no intention of returning. He was done.

With a little less than a week to go before Kat's deadline, Caroline wasn't surprised to find her agent shaking her awake from her restless sleep. "What the hell happened to you?"

Caroline let out a small cry, her voice little more than a croak. When no words came, Katherine Pierce actually looked uncomfortable. "There, there," she attempted to comfort, awkwardly reaching out to pat the blonde's back. "Do you have a draft for me?"

Kat had to bully her into a shower, then into an explanation. Caroline tried not to cry again as she talked about Klaus and his reaction, especially since all Katherine cared about was the work in question. "Let me see," she ordered, holding out her hand.

Cueing the document up on her iPad, Caroline hesitated in handing it over. "Maybe this is a sign I shouldn't publish it," she said.

"Unless you can write another book in four days, you're stuck, Barbie," Kat answered, though not unsympathetic. "If he's gone anyway, you might as well make the loss worth it."

She swallowed tightly, but Caroline nodded. She handed over the iPad, giving Katherine a few minutes to work through the highlighted passages she marked as some of the book's key points.

"Caroline," she finally said, sounding shocked. "This is-"

"I know." Caroline's voice was small.

She knew what a best-seller felt like when she wrote one. Unfortunately, the taste was bittersweet when she remembered what it cost her.

* * *

 _ **one year later…**_

Another day, another book signing.

Caroline sighed, plastering her pageant queen smile for yet another fan of _Mystic Falls_ who jumped at the chance to ask her in person about Eleanor's fate. Her new book, _Dominion_ , was supposed to be the topic of the day, but Caroline knew better than to snap at a reader.

Besides, _Dominion_ was doing just fine because of fans like that one. Kat was already fielding studio calls to turn it into a movie, the lack of a romantic storyline very trendy in the main character's singular pursuit of culinary success. Of everything she'd written, Caroline really wanted to be proud of _Dominion_.

But it hurt. She was doing exactly what Klaus had accused her of, profiting from his pain. She had tried to speak with him, even going so far as to asking Kat to deal with Elijah for a current address. None of it worked, though. Elijah delivered his message loud and clear: Klaus wanted nothing to do with her.

So Caroline gave up, and she continued with the fourth, fifth and sixth drafts of _Dominion_. It was officially released last month, and she was on her last New York signing before she needed to be back on the road for the book tour. Wistfully, she wondered if Klaus had read it.

A familiar voice broke her focus, the British accent washing over her. "I'm sure this is quite personal, but I wondered about your dedication," she asked. Caroline looked up in shock. "Was Natalie based on a real person?"

Eyes wide, Caroline processed the question as she took in Klaus's expression. Curious readers had asked before, but never so bluntly. He seemed almost unsure as he stood across the table from her.

She gingerly opened the book he handed her to the author's dedication, lightly tracing the letters with her finger: _"I'm sorry. An author has no business loving her hero."_

"I hurt someone I cared for in the process of writing this book," Caroline whispered. "Not all stories are ours to tell."

Klaus shrugged, though he didn't take his eyes from her. "Some stories need to be retold with a happy ending," he countered.

Her heart in her throat, Caroline forced herself to speak. "Did you like the book?"

"Natalie was a bit of a prat," he admitted, rubbing his neck. "She let her own fears hold her back from some great opportunities."

"It wasn't all her," Caroline defended, though she knew they weren't talking about her character anymore. "Klaus, I'm so sorry."

"I know," he said softly. Shuffling a bit, he stuck his hands in his pockets. "This is a bit awkward, but do you have a bottle of red wine you wouldn't mind sharing?"

Biting her lip, Caroline tried not to get her hopes up at the callback to their first meeting. "Oh? I think I'm fresh out. What's the occasion?"

"You see, I made a mistake a while ago, and I have no idea how to fix it," he said, leaning forward. "I fell in love with this beautiful woman, and I let my fears hold me back from what might have been the greatest opportunity of my life."

"Sounds familiar," Caroline teased, though she was still scared where this was headed. "I let myself lose a great guy because I was too scared just to be honest with him."

Klaus hummed, reaching out to tuck a blonde curl behind her ear. "It sounds like we could use that bottle of wine," he said. "I could take you back to my kitchen, make you the best beef stroganoff you'll ever taste."

"Your kitchen?" Caroline asked breathlessly. She might have had a Google alert on his name those first few months, but there was nothing about a new restaurant.

He shrugged. "It's not entirely mine, and it's nowhere near Michelin-rated, but it's a start," he explained. "Care to join me for dinner?"

Fighting back a relieved smile, Caroline stubbornly stuck out her hand. "If you expect me to go anywhere with you, I'm going to need a photo of your driver's license."

Klaus grabbed her hand, chuckling, and pulled her to her feet for the fairy-tale, swoon-worthy kiss of her dreams.

Even she couldn't make this up.

"My hero," she whispered against his lips before kissing him again.


	5. A Shoulder to Cry On

**Day 5 - Canon-ish**

 **Set in TVD Season 6, where did Caroline go once she flipped the humanity switch back on? I don't watch TO, so I took creative license with what Klaus was doing at the time.**

* * *

The bar raged around him. Klaus sat in the corner, carefully watching Marcel hold court among the nightwalkers. A few centuries, and his protege had everything he wanted in the home that he built. Bitterness rose within him as he slammed back another bourbon.

Elijah wasn't impressed with the showing, his derisive sniff enough judgment of his brother's petulant behavior. "Really, Niklaus," he sighed. "You have a family to think of now."

Raising an imperious eyebrow, Klaus was saved from responding by the phone buzzing in his pocket. When he checked the caller ID, however, he failed to restrain a groan before answering. "And what trouble have the brothers Salvatore gotten themselves into now?"

"Look," Damon snapped, unamused. "No one even wanted to call you, but I figured Blondie could use the backup."

Klaus straightened immediately, ignoring his brother's curious expression. "What's wrong?"

"Long story short, Liz is dead, Barbie flipped the switch, and she's since come to her senses," Damon blithely explained. "She took off about twenty minutes ago, told us not to follow her. Still, I don't think she should be alone."

"And you're the one to decide," Klaus challenged, though he flashed out of the bar without further ado.

"Act on it, don't act on it, I don't care," Damon said. "I've got enough to deal with here, and Stefan's too moral to go against Blondie's wishes. Whatever, I did my part."

With that, Damon hung up. Klaus immediately called the vampire he had compelled to report on Caroline's whereabouts; someone had been neglecting their duties, apparently. He might have promised to leave Mystic Falls, but Klaus knew that information was power. The fact he had no idea the sheriff had passed...it unsettled him.

More concerning, Caroline had flipped the humanity switch. While Klaus fervently hoped she would one day loosen her tight grip on a human existence, he never wished her to lose the tether altogether. It was what he l-

No, he needed to find her first. She would be vulnerable, something Klaus had never cared for except as a weakness to exploit; but Damon was right, she shouldn't be alone.

Another ring, and Klaus fought the urge to throw his phone at the drunken passersby. His minion should have picked up-

"I knew you were too creepy to just leave town," a familiar, yet broken voice answered.

Sighing, Klaus squeezed his eyes shut. "Hello, love."

"Do you really have nothing better to do than spy on me?"

"I think you already know the answer to that, Caroline," he replied, holding onto the small hint of humor in her tone. "I don't know whether to be aggravated or proud that you managed to subdue your guard."

Caroline snorted, though it sounded more like a sob. "His name is Andrew, and I didn't have to subdue him," she pointed out. "A little flirt goes a long way, and he was more than happy to give me his phone to send required updates on my own behalf."

"And you didn't think to send me a funeral notice?" It was harsh, but Klaus wasn't feeling particularly charitable after being thwarted by a baby vampire and her flirting.

"It was a bit short notice," she answered quietly, sniffling.

Klaus deflated, remembering the reason he called. "Tell me where you are, love," he pleaded. "I just want to help."

"The beach," she whispered. "We came here once, after the divorce. She wanted to show me things weren't all that bad, even if Daddy wasn't going to live with us anymore."

"Where?"

"And I needed that feeling again," she cried, ignoring his question. "I need to know things aren't all that bad, even if I'm all alone now."

His heart clenched painfully, and Klaus gripped his phone more tightly. "Caroline," his voice was low and needy. "Please, let me come to you."

She whispered the name of a southern Virginia town, and he practically flew out of New Orleans on his way to her.

* * *

The waves crashed against the rocky shore, the noise deafening in Klaus's ears as he searched for her. The night sky was nothing for a hybrid's sense of sight, but a part of him was terrified about what he would find.

A familiar shade of blonde caught his eye, and he flashed the final half-mile toward her. "Caroline."

She looked small, huddled in a plaid blanket. Her eyes were red with tears, any makeup long gone after hours of crying. "Feel free to change your mind on last loves," she muttered, continuing to stare out to the sea. "I doubt this was what you had in mind when you made that promise."

Sighing, Klaus dropped to sit in the sand next to her. "I'm a thousand years old, love," he said, softly elbowing her. "I think I know exactly what I signed up for."

"I did- I wasn't-" Caroline had trouble forming a coherent thought as another wracking sob heaved through her chest.

Klaus tentatively wrapped an arm around her, pulling her head to rest against his shoulder as she cried. "You're okay, sweetheart," he hushed. "Let it out."

She kept sobbing, and Klaus just wanted to comfort her. "Every vampire goes through this at some point," he explained. "The humanity switch helps you cope, for lack of a better explanation. There comes a time when it's easier to be more vampire than human."

"She- She wanted better for me," Caroline cried. "She deserved better from me."

Pressing a kiss to her hair, Klaus hugged Caroline close. "And you snapped out of it," he reminded her. "You're so strong, love."

She shook her head. "Not strong enough."

"You're still so young," he answered, though it was more to himself. "Caroline, I've seen vampires with centuries on you give themselves completely to their darker inclinations. You have more power than you think, your control, your light."

"I killed so many people," she whispered in horror. "And Stefan, oh my god. Klaus, I forced him to become the Ripper. We- Oh god."

Klaus winced, not really needing her to fill in those blanks. "And now you're here," he said, raising her chin so he could will the tears from her eyes. "You needed to know that things aren't all that bad, and I'm telling you they aren't. You can move on from this, stronger than ever."

"How?" Her voice was so small, and he held her just a bit tighter.

"The way you always do," he answered. "With determination and a smile."

Rolling her eyes, Caroline pulled her face from his grasp. Klaus might have been upset had it not meant her old fire was returning. "Always the charmer," she mumbled.

"Always for you, love."

He smiled as she returned her head to his shoulder, facing the ocean. "Just a few more minutes," she said as she cuddled closer.

Nodding, Klaus let himself enjoy the moments he had left with her.


	6. Jail Break

**Day 6 - Myths and Legends**

 **After a thousand years of running, Klaus takes advantage of an ancient witch's collection to hide from Mikael. The woman in the next cell has an enchanting voice, though she refuses to engage with him. And what is special about her that landed her in this collection anyway?**

* * *

It was supposed to be an easy hiding place. Mikael had been spotted in Greece, and Klaus just needed to lay low so the monster couldn't find him. An ancient witch bragged about a collection of oddities, so Klaus casually let it slip that he was truly a hybrid - a vampire with a tragically hindered werewolf gene.

Sure enough, Silas was overwhelmingly cordial in an invitation to see his gallery of sorts. After a brief tour of magical legends - a unicorn, a manticore, a chimera - Klaus tried to hide the triumph as the witch magically cast him into a cell of his own.

"Finally, a werewolf," Silas crowed happily. Klaus played the part of an enraged occupant, throwing himself against the invisible barrier keeping him trapped. "I've always wanted one, and a vampire, too. Truly a magnificent catch."

"And what do you intend to do with me?"

Shrugging, Silas's grin turned feral. "I did say I wanted a wolf," he answered, raising his hand in a menacing fashion. "A curse should be easy enough to break."

Tortuous hours later, Silas grew bored and left Klaus gasping in his cell. Protection was one thing; actual torture was another. While Klaus would give anything for his werewolf side to be released, he had little faith the witch could accomplish it by poking at him in captivity. Though he refused to admit a misjudgment, Klaus figured an escape plan would be prudent.

And then he heard her.

Klaus didn't remember seeing any humanoid creatures, but an ethereal voice was humming from the cell next to him. "Hello," he called.

The humming stopped abruptly, though no response came. "Who are you?" he tried again.

Silence settled over him, and the lack of blood made Klaus tired. His eyes drooped closed, and the voice began to sing just before he could fall asleep. A thousand years, and he never bothered to learn Greek. Still, the song was soothing, the strains ringing in his ears as he drifted off.

* * *

The days continued. Silas would spend a few hours wringing every bit of magic out of Klaus in hopes of breaking his curse, only for him to throw a blood bag into the cell so he could try again the next day.

Klaus took in his surroundings, talking through various scenarios to attempt an escape plan. In the quiet hours when he was sure he'd gone crazy, the voice would return. Her sweet and pearly tone was a comfort and a curse, for Klaus often found himself flattened against their shared wall.

"Who are you?" he would keep asking. "How did you get here?"

Her lack of communication wasn't for a lack of understanding, he knew, because she sang in a number of languages.

Even now, she was singing a terrible American ballad from the 80s. "Come on, love," he cajoled. "Surely you could use some real conversation."

Klaus thought it odd that Silas never acknowledged her during his visits, though she must be visible to him in her cell. He was able to speak freely, but the woman never did.

Instead of answering, she just kept humming. "You're just trying to drive me to madness," Klaus accused quietly.

A small hitch in her voice was the only signal she even heard him, but it was a large enough victory for Klaus. She could not withstand him forever.

* * *

"Another day, another failure," Silas sighed. He shook his head in disappointment. "I really thought I managed it that time."

Thoroughly exhausted, Klaus didn't bother to raise his head. "Might as well let me go if you can't manage to get the precious werewolf out of me," he taunted.

Tossing the blood bag through the spelled entrance, Silas just laughed. "I've broken stronger optimism before, hybrid. Don't worry, you'll succumb one day." He turned and vanished on the spot, leaving Klaus to his solitude.

"He's right," the voice said, quiet in its utter hopelessness. "You should give up. He'll grow tired of you eventually."

Suddenly alert, Klaus sat up. "Is that what happened to you?"

She was quiet again, and Klaus silently prayed she continued to speak. He felt drawn to her somehow, and he needed the interaction. "What's your name?" he asked, desperate to keep her talking.

"Just give up, okay?" she sighed, though he could hear annoyance in her voice. "I don't need you getting my hopes up about escaping."

Klaus wondered at the optimism Silas bragged about breaking. "Were you the one he spoke of?"

Minutes passed without an answer, and Klaus assumed she was done speaking for the night. As an hour rolled by, he was horrified that she didn't even hum to herself.

In the first night since his arrival, he had only the sound of his breathing to keep himself company as he fell asleep.

* * *

Klaus abhorred weakness, refused to show it even if the strength required to fight pain wasn't worth expending. When he screamed at a twitch of Silas's hand, then, he knew it was time to move on. Whatever the witch was doing, it was too much for even him.

"Stop it!"

Unable to move from his prone position, Klaus's heart lifted at the woman's plea. She had stubbornly kept quiet since their spat days earlier. The fact she spoke up for him; well, he would dig into that thought after he managed to escape.

"Caroline," Silas sighed, though he didn't look away from Klaus. "Do I not keep you in this gilded cage for your own protection? Do you lack for any entertainment or care?"

"A cage is still a cage," she answered angrily. "I might have accepted my fate, but stop hurting him. If he can't give you what you desire, just let him go."

Cocking his head, Silas just smiled. "Once more, with feeling," he joked. He raised both hands, twisting the air as Klaus's bones broke inside him.

Rather than the blinding pain he expected, though, all Klaus felt was a sharper focus. A millennium might have passed, but he still remembered the first and only time he turned - and he knew it was happening again. Gnashing his teeth with the effort, Klaus flipped over to be on all fours. Fur sprouted as his bones continued shifting, his skin stretching painfully until a new structure was fit out.

If the wolf paws below him weren't sign enough, Silas's sick look of satisfaction would serve as proof. A werewolf again, and a hybrid finally.

Klaus's curse was broken.

Unfortunately for Silas, the spell containing the vampire had no effect on the wolf. Klaus flashed forward, tearing through the witch's throat before he could utter a word. Like a dog with a rag toy, Klaus let the blood fly as he tore Silas to pieces in the dungeon. He only stopped when a hiss of joy sounded from behind him.

Twirling, Klaus achingly transitioned back to his human form in hopes of getting his first glimpse of his mysterious neighbor. He was surprised to see nothing but himself, a mirror in place over the entrance to the next cell. "How do I get you out?"

"He dissolves the wall with his hand," she answered breathlessly.

Klaus looked around, conveniently finding Silas's disembodied hand by his foot. Picking it up, he placed the hand against the mirror, only for the woman to scoff.

"Not there," she explained derisively. Tapping on the wall, Klaus followed the noise to her direction. "Here."

Smirking, Klaus just held the hand off the wall before letting her out. "And how would you know this?"

"It's a two-way mirror," she said, sounding impatient. "Just, close your eyes and place the hand against the glass."

He shrugged as he did exactly that, though he didn't bother to close his eyes. What an odd instruction.

"No, wait-" she cried.

The wall immediately disintegrated despite her hesitation, and Klaus gazed over the the pretty blonde squeezing her eyes shut. "You're beautiful," he whispered, raising her chin for a better look. Still, she kept her eyes closed.

"I'm also dangerous," she snapped, pulling her head from his grasp. "I need you to close your eyes so I can grab some essentials before we go."

Glancing around, Klaus was surprised to see a comfortably furnished room complete with books and an entertainment center. "How did I not hear any of this?"

She shrugged, whipping around to throw clothes and valuables in a pillowcase. Klaus vaguely noted an iPad and headphones among them. "Self-absorption is my guess, but that sounds like a personal problem," she finally answered, looking up. Eyes wide, she panicked when she realized he was looking straight at her. Then, her eyes fell, taking in his nude form. Slamming a hand over her eyes, she seemed to be waiting for something.

Rolling his eyes, Klaus flashed upstairs to Silas's main house in search of clothes. He returned fully dressed, though the woman was still frozen. "I'm dressed now, you can look."

"No, I can't," she said miserably, clenching her hand more tightly to her face. "You don't understand, I'll kill you."

Klaus snorted, stepping closer to gently pull her hand down. "You can't kill what's already dead," he pointed out.

Eyes wide again, her gaze was incomprehensible. "That's not possible," she whispered in horror, even as Klaus noted the exact sea-green of her eyes. "You shouldn't be able to look at me without dropping dead."

"Caroline, is it?" he asked condescendingly. "I'm not sure why you think you have more power than an immortal hybrid, but we should go."

"Silas was immortal," she countered angrily. "He still took the necessary precautions to never meet my eyes."

Confused, Klaus shook his head. "All due respect, you're just a little girl."

"This isn't my true form," she bit out, pulling her hand from where it still rested in his. "Just as he enjoyed toying with you, Silas took great pains to experiment with all creatures. He managed to turn me human, though it had no effect on my powers or my own immortality."

Raising a hand to her cheek, Klaus found himself drawn to her. "And what, pray tell, is your true form?"

With a smirk of her own, Caroline let her fangs drop in a hiss. "I'm sure you've heard of a basilisk."


	7. All Apologies

**Day 7 - Tropes**

 **Happy last day of AU Week! I chose "the ex returns" and "locked in a room together" as my tropes for this drabble, all human with a university setting. Enjoy!**

* * *

"This is a bad idea," Bonnie said, shaking her head. Going to college with her best friends seemed like a great idea, until she remembered just how much trouble Caroline and Elena tended to get her into. "We're going to get caught."

Rolling her eyes, Caroline just continued her attempts to tap the mini-keg Stefan managed to smuggle into their dorm for them. "Okay, party police," she teased. "We're freshmen, it's practically law that we encourage underage drinking. Besides, you're the one who insists on a keg-stand contest every year at the swimming hole."

"But that's different," Bonnie insisted. "That's at home, where the sheriff might be disappointed when she breaks up the party, but she's not really going to throw you in jail."

"Only because she knows her daughter won't go quietly," Caroline teased playfully. "Seriously, Bon. It's fine. If you want to go to the library instead, I won't blame you. Just don't expect me to feel sorry for you when you know exactly no one else on the floor by the time classes start."

Bonnie huffed, though her smile betrayed the fun-loving girl inside. "Fine," she agreed. "Just, nothing too crazy, promise?"

With a sly grin, Caroline just kept trying to tap the keg.

* * *

The party was a hit, Caroline was proud to note. She worried going to Whitmore would just turn into a repeat of high school, especially with all of her friends choosing to stay close to home at the same university. Even Stefan gave up a scholarship to Stanford to stay with Elena, which meant her little family of friends got a chance to grow up together.

Still, she thought it was important for them to branch out beyond their tight-knit group. Hence, the killer party she and Elena had to bully Bonnie into throwing in their dorm room. Caroline went all out with the booze and the invitations, making sure everyone on their floor knew to drop by. There were a couple of cute guys, but she had learned the hard way that too many freshmen were only looking for a quick lay.

Her thoughts trailed to a particularly dark memory of the year before, and the ex-boyfriend who found the attention too much to resist. She had found him in a dorm party much like this one, canoodling with some redhead that was not Caroline.

Shaking her head, she focused on the successful introduction to college life happening around her. Stefan walked up, looking pensive like he knew she was on the verge of having a good time. "This is a party, Stefan," she yelled, nudging her friend. "Quit being such a Debbie Downer."

"Caroline," he said seriously.

"What? You look like you've seen a ghost."

Looking over his shoulder, though, she realized why. Her face hardened, and she slowly raised her red Solo cup to drain it of the gin and tonic. "What the hell is he doing here?"

Klaus Mikaelson was standing by an angry Elena, seemingly bored with her rant and glancing around the room like he owned the place. His eyes latched onto Caroline's, and he was suddenly alert as he stared right at her. Think of the devil ex-boyfriend, and appear he shall - completely uninvited.

When Stefan's only response was a guilty look, Caroline bit out the question again. "What the hell is he doing here, Stefan?"

Admittedly, Caroline's lifelong plan of attending Whitmore was nearly derailed when she found out Klaus had planned to transfer for his sophomore year. He went to some fancy art school at first, which was where Caroline's surprise visit had apparently ruined everything. Even with her senior year completely clouded by the accompanying heartbreak, she felt some relief that she was about to start anew at college.

But there the baggage was, staring at her like she was the most precious thing in the world. "I'm going to punch him," she decided, shoving her cup into Stefan's chest.

"No, Caroline," he said, pulling her back by her wrist. "I didn't think he would show up, honestly. I ran into him at the bookstore, he asked about you."

Scoffing, Caroline pulled away. "He doesn't get to ask about me anymore," she snapped, moving toward the drink table instead. She poured herself another gin and tonic, heavy on the gin. It had been the hardest thing she ever did, cutting off contact with Klaus. But she did it, and she made no secret that her friends ought to respect that if they remained friends with him. She didn't want to hear about him, and he didn't get to hear about her. That was the rule.

And Stefan broke it. Hard.

"I just thought-"

"That you would invite an asshole to my party," Caroline finished angrily. "I love you, Stefan, but you're an idiot. Go find Elena, I don't want to look at your face."

Slinking away like a kicked puppy, Stefan left her alone. People still surrounded her at the drink table, though, and she needed personal space. Irritable and barely holding onto her temper, Caroline slipped into their private bathroom, which had been roped off from errant party-goers.

Miserable, she went to sit in the shower as she tried to muddle through her emotions at seeing Klaus again. He was supposed to stay far away, not to interfere with her perfect freshman year. Caroline really thought she could manage it, too. If she ever saw him, she'd just turn right around and walk away. He would get the hint and leave her be.

It wasn't her fault they broke up, god. He was the asshole cheating. "She wasn't even that pretty," she muttered into her cup.

Content with her pity party, Caroline figured she could give herself five minutes of peace while Stefan ushered Klaus out of the room altogether.

"Caroline."

Unless the asshole was knocking on the door to the bathroom, all but begging for trouble. "Go away," she shouted.

Of course, he took that as an invitation to let himself in. She scrambled to stand up, her cup hindering her as the alcohol began to fuzz her anger. Klaus immediately reached for her waist to steady her, but Caroline's cold stare warned him off touching her. "I don't want you here," she said clearly.

"I know," he capitulated. He was the picture of remorse, but Caroline was long past the point of being fooled by stormy eyes and pretty dimples. "I had hoped-"

"For what?" she interrupted, genuinely curious. "What did you hope for, Klaus? To find another girl to fuck behind my back?"

He winced, though she could tell he was angry at the jab. "I've tried to apologize, many times. You never bothered to take my calls."

"Gee," Caroline sighed sarcastically. "I wonder why?"

"I screwed up," he admitted, which gave Caroline pause. Klaus Mikaelson was many things, but self-aware was rarely one of them. "You were so insistent that long distance relationships didn't work, and I wanted to prove you wrong. And you were, it was so incredibly easy…"

Caroline stared as he trailed off, only to clench her fists when he lost his words. "So easy that it allowed you to cheat without feeling guilty? What the hell, Klaus?"

He licked his lips in frustration, tense from holding himself away from her. "It was easy, and that scared me. I could genuinely see myself loving you for the rest of my life, and it was terrifying," he explained. "When I got drunk at a party, then-"

"I can fill in the blanks," she snapped. "In fact, I was there."

"I knew," he said quietly. "Rebekah had told me of your plans to visit, and I knew I could get you to walk away from me. Because I knew I could never walk away from you."

Biting her lip, Caroline kept her piercing gaze on him. "That is the lamest bullshit I have ever heard," she decided, reaching around him to escape the bathroom. Unfortunately, the doorknob wasn't budging. It was almost like it was-

"STEFAN!"

* * *

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Stefan asked nervously.

Elena shook her head as Bonnie pocketed the bathroom key. Their old dorm had some much needed safety concerns, but locking the bathroom from the outside was a helpful tool when exes refused to be in the same room together. "Caroline's been holding onto her anger for too long," Elena pointed out. "I hope she kills him, but they need to hash this out if she's ever going to move on."

"Yeah, right," Bonnie snorted. "Those two are far more likely to bang it out, still sniping at each other than to move on. How many times have we tried to get Caroline to take Tyler up on that date?"

They were all witness to the power couple Klaus and Caroline had been in high school until Klaus graduated. Bonnie often joked that junior prom was a run-through for Caroline's wedding, complete with the white dress she wore for Klaus. The Mikaelsons all had their issues, so no one was really surprised for Caroline to come home fuming after a disastrous visit from the self-sabotaging Klaus. Still, they never believed Caroline would ever truly give up on him.

That was the whole reason they cooked this plan up. Bonnie only hoped Caroline wouldn't hate them for it.

* * *

"I can't believe this," she muttered, still fiddling with the doorknob.

"Just talk to me, sweetheart," Klaus pleaded.

"Don't call me that," she spat. "I'm not your sweetheart, apparently because you loved me too damn much. How stupid do you think I am?"

Klaus shook his head, sitting on the toilet as he watched her nearly beat the door down. "You're brilliant, you know that," he said.

She snorted in derision. "Yep, I'm brilliant," she moaned. "So brilliant, I didn't follow through on my plan to change schools when I heard you transferred."

"I did it for you," he admitted softly. Caroline faced him in shock, but he was too busy looking at his feet to notice. "I never slept with that girl, love, or any of them. I just wanted you. I missed you."

Overwhelmed, she fought to hold onto her anger. "That sounds like you transferred for you," she pointed out. "To make up for your own stupid mistakes, only hurting me more for it."

He looked up, his head tilting at the tears welling in her eyes. "I'm sorry," he implored, clenching his hands together so they wouldn't reach for her.

"I loved you," she whispered, feeling utterly betrayed all over again.

"I love you," he replied earnestly. "I just wanted to apologize in person, to ask for the chance to earn your forgiveness."

Wiping under her eyes, Caroline stalked toward the vanity so she could fix her makeup. "And how do you expect to earn any forgiveness?"

Klaus stepped behind her, close enough for her to feel the warmth from his body at her back. Still, he knew better than to touch her. "I don't," he whispered, his breath hitting her ear. "I can only hope. But I'm here for you, sweetheart, make no mistake of that." Slowly, he placed a kiss against her hair before stepping back.

Knocking on the door twice like Stefan told him to, Klaus turned back to Caroline. "My number hasn't changed, and I promise not to approach you again unless you initiate."

Caroline's breath hitched in her throat at his sad smile, and he ran a hand through his hair as he left her alone. A year of heartbreak, and all she wanted was just to wrap him in a hug. Rolling her eyes, she focused instead on fixing her mascara.

The ball was in her court now, and he could damn well wait for her to pass it back when she was good and ready.


End file.
